Fifty feet away from me, Anne Hathaway is all eyes and lips and curves. Jake Gyllenhaal is all hands. They fall upon each other like a pair of amorous wolves.

Fifteen feet away from me, meanwhile, a fat guy in a baseball cap is eagerly introducing himself to a slab of Tuscan Pepperoni Pizzetta. And somewhere close by there’s a waitress bringing chips and dip.

What’s wrong with this picture?

Well, it’s really what’s different about this motion-picture concept. Dubbed "Dine-In Theatres" by AMC, it’s now up and running in three New Jersey multiplexes, at West Orange’s Essex Green 9, the Bridgewater Commons 7 and the just-opened Menlo Park 12 (OPENS DEC 15).

The theaters have all been updated. At Essex Green, for example, five of the nine screens are "Fork & Screen," with comfy chairs and communal counters. The remaining are the posher "Cinema Suites," with push-button recliners and individual tables.

Theaters now feature brightly lit bars in the lobbies and continuous seatside service during the show. Want a martini, a bucket of Bud, a plate of fried calamari? Just push a button and a server will appear.

One local working-moms’ message board recently featured a discussion on whether the idea was kid-unfriendly. (Actually, it’s sort of meant to be; unaccompanied minors are banned from "Fork & Screen" theaters, and no one under 21 is admitted to "Cinema Suites").

And unprepared adults may be startled by the "Experience Charge" – an obligatory add-on of $10 or $15 to each $10 ticket, redeemable in food and drink, but not refundable. (And that’s the minimum; add drinks, appetizers, desert and a tip, and suddenly your date can cost $100).

"What if we don’t want the `Experience’?" asked a woman ahead of me in line, who arrived in the mood for a movie, not a meal. "Well, you see, the dine-in theater concept…" the clerk began. The woman and her date turned and left.

The concept, AMC public-relations director Justin Scott insists, has been a hit in other markets.

It still needs some rewrites here. Although servers were unfailingly polite, one dropped a tray during the screening of "Love and Other Drugs," the sound of apologies and shattering glass interrupting an opening scene. Courses arrived in the midst of plot twists

Eating in the dark added its own thrills, particularly when what seemed to be a won-ton chip turned out to be the plastic lid to a container of sweet chili sauce.

Admitted, the seats are cushy (although sitting in a recliner while being waited on made me feel like a blobby exile from "WALL-E"). And it’s great to see a neighborhood theater not only preserved but refurbished; I don’t miss the old Essex Green’s grimy carpeting, or men’s room "novelties" dispenser.

But giving people the comforts of home seemed to trick some people into thinking they were home. (At the screening I went to, fans talked even louder, and longer, than usual.) And there’s something terribly strange about trying to watch an even slightly serious film while a waitress is bringing out your Wings and Things Sampler.

In fact, the concept seems about as connected to motion pictures as dinner-theater is to drama. What’s wrong, after all, with giving a movie our full attention, and then going out afterward, to talk about it over coffee or a burger at the diner? Isn’t that part of the "experience" too?

Of course the AMC line is that they’re merely providing their customers with a choice; if you don’t like it, go somewhere else. And clearly there are people who want a place where they can sit and chat and nosh and watch a movie. I understand that. In fact, I already have a place like that.